A New World Order
by Duker-2014
Summary: Mutants are being slaughtered. When the war between the two species at its most critical the Professor falls into an unexplained coma, leaving the X-Men at a turning point. The government re-issues the SENTINEL program to defend the nation from being enslaved. The X-Men must unite when hope is lost and pay the price for freedom. A mutant revolt must being. Nothing will be the same.
1. Genesis pt 1

_"Non-violence leads to the highest ethics, which is the goal of all evolution. Until we stop harming all other living beings, we are still savages." ~ _Thomas Edison

Chapter 1: Genesis

_Homo-sapiens. The dawn of humanity. A pinnacle of imperfection. Their existence has ravaged civilization which has been defined by years of war, famine, disease, intolerance. They will annihilate anything beneath themselves and fear what they are incapable of understanding. In order to save the world, humanity must be replaced by a higher class of being. A mutant revolt must begin._

Xavier's School for Higher Learning stood just outside the grounds of Westchester, New York. Green fields of grass and trees molded the landscape, save for the large circular design of the driveway leading up to its fixture that encompassed a maze of perfectly trimmed bushes. Two light poles stood opposite each other every fifty feet along the cement. A secondary pathway traveled along the right side of the school, through a thick mass of trees, leading to a basketball court behind the backside of the structure, ending at the foot of the court and continuing to an in-grown pool ten feet farther. The school itself, a stories high, large mansion with architecture right out of the mid-1800's, a Victorian stronghold, constructed with dark gray stone, stood at the front of the sweeping lawn.

The institute was one of only a few areas around the world where mutants could live without ridicule. Instead, Xavier's school provided the warmth and humble nature that mutants, adult and children, wouldn't get in a public school or civil environment. They were encouraged to be themselves and were taught to control their powers and in rare cases, the more experienced students joined their teachers on the front lines in defending the Xavier philosophy.

Classes were scheduled to last periodically throughout the day, much like a college or university, and students were already halfway through their normal routine. Hallways were filled with rows of students going to and from class and teachers rushing to prepare for their next lecture like the rush of a morning drive.

One teacher in particular, Dr. Hank McCoy was one of the only instructors who taught multiple classes in the academy, which included mostly mathematics and a majority of the sciences, including biochemistry and genetics lectures on bio-science, chemistry, physics, and even courses on Shakespeare. This semester he chose to teach biology.

Hank was a mutant with a rare, animalistic appearance. A thick coat of Persian blue fur, cut and trim to maintain a well-mannered and welcoming appearance would make anyone but those closest to him uneasy, and invited the code name of Beast, one he scoffed at. But that was when he lived a normal life, when his mutation was easy to hide.

Hank stood at the front of a small classroom, ready to address the group of twenty five young, mutant students who had recently entered, putting their belongings on desks that formed an arch before him. His yellow eyes peered through the small, squared lens of his reading glasses which rested comfortably against the bridge of his nose.

"Good afternoon class. I trust your minds are as ready as your bodies are for today's exciting journey into the works of one of my personal idols, Charles Darwin" Hank said, holding a copy of Darwin's book "The Origin of the Species" at eye level for the class to see. The sight sent one student into a worry.

"Uh, Dr. McCoy," the student began. If he were standing upright, his stature would slightly exceed Hank's, though his build was average. His combed, black hair, swept back from his forehead, with freckles sparsely placed along his cheeks underneath his pair of blue eyes.

"Jimmy, I've told you this before, you are free to call me Hank."

"Right." The young mind paused for a second, a mere blink of an eye's time. "Hank, we don't have to purchase this book do we?"

Beast laughed. It wasn't the first time he heard the question, but it never ceased to catch his humor off guard. "Of course not. I have plenty of copies from my own personal library you are free to use, if you feel so inclined to do so. But, this text isn't required. It's simply going to be used as a resource than as an examination guide. Rest easy son."

The young man sighed in pleasure.

"If there are no more questions, we shall begin." Beast looked around the room and saw no hands raised, a signal to start his lecture. "Darwin says, 'it is not the strongest of the species that survives, nor the most intelligent. It's the one that has the ability to adapt to change." He grabbed a long pointer that lay across his desk and held it up in the thick palm of his apelike hand, against the large screen beside him, highlighting a diagram of the evolution of man. "Evolution is the key to our existence, without it, we'd still be in the age of the Neanderthals drawing pictures on the inside of caves." Hank removed his reading glasses, closed his copy of Darwin's book, and addressed the class that sat before him. "Clearly, there are many who protest Darwin's beliefs and replace them with their own, such as those who follow Christianity." Hank stepped out from behind his narrow desk and rested along its edge to continue addressing the class. "Now, we shouldn't be condemning Darwin because of his divergence from Christian studies, we should be congratulating him on his intellectual contribution to society, and rightfully so."

Another student shot her hand in the air. She was small in size. Her shoulder length, straight brown hair matched her perfectly captivating brown eyes. Kitty Pryde, a mid-teenage girl, and Beast's prime student, was always one with a topic enhancing question.

"Yes Kitty" McCoy answered.

"Couldn't Darwin's theory of evolution be viewed as an instrument in God's creation of man?"

"A captivating idea."

Kitty smiled upon Beast's compliment and simply nodded as her response.

"What you're fellow student has just pointed out has been wildly debated ever since Darwin released his book. Is evolution attributed to God's own device, or is it simply another means to tell the story of how we came to be? Darwin argued that creation could exist without a mind to guide it and if that's possible, then who knows how that may change mankind."

As McCoy gazed around the classroom, he caught sight of one student drifting in his chair, on the edge of falling out from a stale sense of boredom. "Bobby," he called, alerting the young teen of his disrespect. "Is there something you find not all that interesting about my class?"

Bobby Drake was the class clown of the institute. For him, academics were a bother. He'd rather focus his attention of members of the opposite gender than spend time in a classroom. His curly blond hair and natural facial features provided more than enough incentive to continue his habit. He was the type of student who fooled around in class, was a distraction to the teacher, but was a surprisingly strong A student. Without ever having to open a textbook or take notes in class, Bobby, Iceman as he came known as due to his mutation, was book smart without having to do a single assignment. It was a gift his mutation didn't offer.

"Yeah," Bobby said, clearly trying to annoy his teacher, "not to be disrespectful teach, but I've read writing off a cereal box that was more interesting than this."

"Well, if you don't feel as strongly as Darwin or your fellow classmates you're more than welcome to leave, but I'd like to remind you that if you leave, it's on grounds of academic penalty. I'd highly encourage you to stay. Who knows? You may actually find Darwin enjoyable, given time."

Bobby's chin returned to rest comfortably in the palm of his right hand, anchored by an arm that stood vertical from his desk, and gave a moan he hear as a failure to achieve his goal of irritating Dr. McCoy. "Doubt it."

Beast returned to the front of the class and continued his lecture, grabbing a pencil and resting it against the back of his ear. "In the words of Madeleine L'Engle, 'our truest responsibility to the world is to paint or sing or write, for only in such response do we find the truth.'" Beast was quite fond of quoting classic English writers and poets, to the point of annoying some faculty with his constant over-usage, especially Logan, who was more animal than he was. In a strange, and almost obvious way, Beast and Logan had formed a close friendship and mutual respect due to the nature of their mutations. Logan gave in to his feral rage more often than he would care to admit, where Beast had tamed his to the point of being almost nonexistent. Hank was proof to Logan that even his inner beast could be tamed. Logan would refuse, and secretly he enjoyed it. Of all the mutants he taught, student or not, Logan proved the most difficult.

Hank brushed his secondary thoughts off to the side and focused his attention back to the class, who had stared blankly at him as his mind drifted off topic. His distraction had been more apparent than he realized. "Sorry class, my mind went somewhere else. Now where was I?" Hank paused, remembering his previous though. "Oh yes" he exclaimed. "The truth is, that our mutation is a natural part of evolution. In time, genetics change, and as a result, our cells mutate to create a new species. Mutants. We are nothing more than homo-sapiens with a few extra chromosomes."

"If we are so similar, why do humans still fear us?" Kitty asked, her eyes beaming with a hope that would put the Professor's to shame.

"That Kitty, is a question I unfortunately cannot answer. My only logical guess would be because we are different enough to cause a threat to a society they have dominated for years. Unfortunately we live in a world with intolerance and oppression built into its core. If humans have their way, all mutants would be erased from civilization."

"What good does it do to sit back and watch it happen?"

"My dear, that's why people like Charles Xavier exist. To keep peace between our race and theirs. But every culture isn't without their own form of supremacy. Ours regrettably is known to many as a mutant terrorist bent on starting a war with our lesser kin."

"You mean Magneto?"

"I do."

A sudden ache overcame Hank. He clenched his stomach and bent over his desk, struggling to catch his breath, sensing pain, tragedy, heartache, and despair, not from his mind, but from one distant, yet close. His ears rang in a painful echo, enough to shatter invisible barriers on the Astro Plain. And just as quick, the sensation was gone.

"Hank? Are you okay?" Jimmy asked, his curiosity evident in his warm-natured character.

A long pause followed his student's question. "I'm sorry class, we'll continue this tomorrow. You are free to leave." After a seconds hesitation the students packed their belongings and left Beast's classroom in a mannerly order. Something had gone terribly wrong. This only happened in rare instances during the Professor's use of the mutant tracker Cerebro. Seeing that Hank was making adjustments to the device before he left to teach his class, that could't be the explanation. Only one thing was for sure.

There was something very wrong with the Professor.


	2. Genesis pt 2

Chapter 1: Genesis pt. 2

By the time Hank entered the Xavier's office, Xavier had already collapsed on the floor, his face pale, vague, and emotionless, with three other faculty near him, one woman, and two men, one man kneeling over him, and the other two standing upright. A cup of freshly spilled tea lay next to them, still dripping from the edge of the Professor's desk, and soaking into the steaming carpet.

The one kneeling was Scott Summers, code-named Cyclops, Xavier's prime pupil, and challenged ruler of the mutant strike force, the X-Men. As Xavier's first student, Scott was a surrogate son, the first in line of many. If anything was wrong with Charles, Scott felt it was his obligation to step up and take care of things in his absence. It was because of Scott's authoritative qualities that he was placed as Xavier's right hand. Instances like this however, were an entirely different matter.

Aside from certain, restrictive qualities, Scott Summers had the look and charm of a self-made man. A proven leader, a boy scout, as some called him. Summers was clean cut, had fair lines to his face, smooth auburn hair, complete with a slight Nebraskan accent. He hid his eyes behind a pair of ruby quartz lenses, which acted as a protective shield, reinforced to deflect red, high optic beams from projecting out of his eyes. They were powerful enough to level an entire building in an instant, and were capable of melting the flesh from another person's body. Surprisingly, they had no affect on his own but they caused more pain than a standard headache.

Beside Scott, stood a slim redhead, whose hand was placed delicately on his left shoulder. Her cherry red lips, forest green eyes, and her perfectly formed figure captivated every man who set eyes on her. Only one pair of eyes stole her heart, Scott's. She dreamed of one day seeing his eyes in their natural form more than Scott desired normal sight. But her love of him was entirely pure and were perfect compliments of each other.

Like Scott before her, Jean was the child Xavier never had, and he treated her as such. Her beauty wasn't only in her appearance but in her power. She was the only class five mutant Xavier had ever encountered and he pushed her to strive for perfection. As a telepath, her powers were practically limitless and rivaled the Professor's.

On the other end of the office, Logan stood isolated, keeping a distance in his expected gruff manner, yet fully coherent and emotionally attached to the situation. His eyes never once drifted from the Professor, even if Jean Grey was in his line of vision. Her matchless beauty never went unnoticed. Logan stirred, his eyes saying what his mouth wouldn't. His right hand combed over a thread of his bang and brushed it back, exhaling silently as he did. A part of him wished he wouldn't have come to the institute for fear of endangering himself and those around him. The Professor had invited him in when he had no where else to go, when he felt stranded and lost. In some ways, he still did.

Logan excused himself, brushing Hank's shoulder as he approached, Jean's eyes following him on the way out, making it hard for Scott not to notice.

"Professor," Scott said, kneeling by his side. He placed his arms around him in attempt to lift him from the floor. Xavier's body was cold, and unresponsive.

"Don't touch him Scott" Hank began, looking over them "we don't know what his mind in this fragile state could do."

Scott removed his palm before he could touch him and stood up, making way for Hank to take his place.

"Charles, Charles can you hear me?" Hank asked.

Charles' body was limp. His face was a light shade of white, almost the color of the dress shirt under his blue jacket. Hank pressed his index and middle fingers firmly against the side of Xavier's neck, unable to find an active pulse._  
_

"We need to get him down to medical."

* * *

Beneath the grounds of the Xavier Institute were hidden tunnels kept secret from the public eye, a subbasement built with a primary means of mutant affairs. The walls were coated with a heavily metallic substance that reflected motion from it's futuristic surface like a dyslexic mirror. One main corridor led to a series of subsequent channels and rooms, each designed for a unique purpose. An X-shaped doorway marked the entrance for every distinct room, each coated in the same reflective surface as the walls.

Inside the medical room, Xavier lay on an examination table, wired to different machines, while Beast operated the computer, looking for the reason for the manifestation resulting in Xavier's mental attack.

"It seems what Charles went through is nothing more than a mere anxiety attack" Beast calculated in a tone that made it sound he was surprised by the findings, "yet, something far more severe."

"Explain Hank" Scott said, almost harshly.

"Charles' mind is unresponsive, yet his vitals are reading normal. It's appears that something is protecting us from it, like a psychic cocoon. It's quite a remarkable phenomenon."

"What kind of 'phenomenon' Hank?" Scott asked.

"For that, you'd have to ask the Professor."

Beast removed the reading glasses and held them against his thigh while he puzzled over the situation, his finger rubbing the flexed bridge of his nose in disdain. Xavier's readings were normal by comparison, but evidence did not support how or why the Professor was in a mental coma.

"It may take some time before I can find anything valuable that could lead to some sort of explanation, but for right now, I'm afraid Charles will be in this coma until his mind overcomes those physic barriers that are shielding it."

Scott turned to Jean. "Jean, you're a telepath, can't you read the Professor's mind and counteract some of those barriers?"

"Yes but Hank's right Scott, we may not know the extent of the damage. I can't just tamper with his mind without knowing what's fighting it. It could kill him."

"The best thing now," Beast interjected, "is to let the Professor rest and see if whatever's holding him at bay lets loose so we can begin to repair some of the damages."

"How long will it take, Hank?" Scott asked, looking back at the doctor, afraid of the answer.

"With a mind like Charles', it's far too soon to tell. No discernible fraction of time exists. It may take days, weeks, even. All I know is that without further tests, we won't know the extent of the damages, if there are any."

"Great" Scott groaned. "What now? Are we supposed to sit back and do nothing?" Scott grew irritated. As calm as he tried to appear, patience was never the strongest part of his character.

"You sound like Logan" Hank mentioned.

Scott didn't realize it until he had a time to process it, but Hank was right, and the thought made him cringe. Being compared to Logan was one of the biggest insults Scott could imagine, though, he knew Beast didn't mean any harm by it. Everyone at the institute knew Logan and Scott didn't see eye to eye, and would often go out of their way to deliberately irritate the other, subtle or obvious. It made putting up with him a little easier.

"I'm sorry Hank," Scott motioned. "I'm not used to seeing the Professor so, helpless."

"Nor am I Scott," Hank said gently, placing his hand on Scott's shoulder for comfort. "Charles is strong, and you shouldn't be so quick to dismiss what he's capable."

"You're right" Scott sighed.

"I'll stay down here with Charles and run some more tests. I'll let you know the second I discover anything new about his condition."

"Thanks Hank." Scott placed his hands around Jean's shoulders and ushered her from the side of the Professor's medical bed. "Come on Jean, Hank's right. The Professor needs his rest."

Jean let Scott lead her out of the room and only broke gaze with the Professor when the metallic doors shut behind them.

* * *

Scott rose from the couch, his rage hidden behind his ruby quartz glasses, and walked toward the nearest window, where Jean Grey had gazed out to clear her head. He placed his hand on her shoulder in such an intimate, yet social way that made her worries seem not as important. Her soft hair touching his skin made him feel the same. He admired the way her perfect being fell into his and how the smile she made when he touched her put him at ease. Scott stared ahead, to the trees that stood outside the mansion, and the blue skies that never seemed to dim, thinking how the world would be without prejudice. Being with Jean was the only form of peace he understood. Her whole being was built to withstand even the slightest form of judgment, after all, he, like her, shared a genetic mutation. Only hers was easy to hide.

"You feeling okay Jean?" Scott asked, sensing something wasn't right.

"I'm worried about the Professor. I've never seen him so vulnerable, so defenseless." Scott's embrace couldn't calm her, much to her surprise. Usually all she'd need was his warmth, and his body next to hers, and everything would feel right. Not today. "Scott, I'm scared. I felt what went through the Professor's mind. It was angry, determined to cause injury, not only to humans, but mutants. Whatever happened downtown I feel is going to happen again, only I feel next time it will be worse."

Scott held her close in his arms, unable to stop the tears from wetting her face and spoke to her in almost a whisper, "Then we'll be there, to stop this from happening again." Scott wasn't so sure of himself this time. He didn't believe the words even though they came from his mouth, but he didn't show it. His strong, powerful façade kept his true feelings at bay, and even though Jean was a telepath, he trusted her enough not to pry.

Logan stood on the far side of the room, watching Scott and Jean in their private moment, the desire in his eyes never being fulfilled. He thought it was selfish, thinking only of Jean instead of focusing on the Professor's health or the events that happened downtown. He couldn't help it when she was in plain sight. Logan scoffed at the one-way conversation he was having with his interior monologue and brushed the thoughts aside for the moment in a silent snarl. It was obvious he was displeased with himself, though he would never let the others know, another mystery added to his ever-growing list.

Jean caught sight of Logan's gaze from Scott's broad shoulders. Logan pretended not to notice, but they both know he did. Logan was rugged, feral, more aggressive in appearance, attractive in a way Scott wasn't. Scott, on one other hand, was bold, with a natural complexion that was a perfect compliment to hers. Scott was the ideal choice, Logan, was an attraction purely based in fantasy, strictly primal in nature. The chemistry between the two mirrored only intimate attraction. When Jean's eyes locked with Logan's, she felt empowered, full of herself, full of energy even her telepathic powers couldn't match. Logan flexed a friendly, yet regrettable smile and Jean's heart almost caved to her inner demands. She fought herself, forcing the inappropriate thoughts from her collective conscience and focused on the man who held her close, wishing, only for a second, it was someone else.

Scott held Jean at arm's length, with her shoulders still in his hands, and met her eyes face level. He smiled before kissing her and in that instant, Jean's worries faded into her subconscious. In that moment, Jean sensed something was wrong.

"Guys," Jean said, breaking the tension, "something's happening downtown."

Scott turned the television on a news station. A female reporter stood in front of a ravaged city street looking as if it came from a post-apocalyptic movie screen. Fires raged in the background while firefighters effortlessly battled to calm the flames. Hundreds of empty and bent plastic chairs scattered the fractured cement where a risen, wooden platform was on the brink of falling into an unseen abyss. The camera paused on the reporter's face in shock, yet calm and professional enough to hardly be noticed. After a second of gathering her thoughts and maintaining a comprehension of her surroundings, she began her report. The caption read:

MURDER IN MUTANT TOWN.

_"This is the scene, where just moments ago, a group of mutant protesters were murdered during an anti-mutant rally in what the mutant community refers to as Mutant Town. The assault took place only thirty minutes ago and as you can see behind me, the police are containing the remains of the outbreak. Now, the mutant victims have not been identified but it is believed the situation got out of hand when the several non-mutants who organized the rally opened fire on the mutants who began to riot. Our very own Senator Robert Kelly had this to say."_

_"In one of the many mutant towns in this country, the recent development in District X has just proven what I have been saying for years. Mutants present a threat not only to their own society, but also to our national security. This make-shift 'community' of theirs has long since been a source of one of the highest crime rates in all of the United States. Poverty, famine, illiteracy, these are just some of the things that mutants have burdened this society with. Until we clean up their mess, this will continue to affect how we move on to the next stage of our existence. We all know what needs to happen to prevent such disaster. Mutants need to register with the government so every non-mutant can feel safer."_

The colored TV screen abruptly turned black and the only noise in the room was the silent sound of internal thought of the faculty and students watching the broadcast. Scott set the remote down on the table he sat across from him and stared blankly into the screen, his mind solely on the matter at hand. The world never seemed so bleak, and even with his eyes, a vision shaded in medium red, he wondered how the world was looking back. Scott already knew the answer. Mutants like Magneto and his Brotherhood fueled society's hateful opinions that every mutant were as harmful. It was a never ending battle that even the Professor thought at times he'd never win. In those instances sometimes Scott thought the Professor was right.

"This has gone too far" Scott burst, his body gestures frantic, and his pacing sparse.

"You act like this surprises you" Jean added.

"You know, maybe Magneto's right. Maybe the only way for us to survive in this world is to fight back." Scott sighed heavily and looked down at the floor. After seconds he stared out the window where Jean was just moments ago. She placed her hands on his shoulders and began to caress his tense muscles. The gentleness of her fingers eased Scott's anxiety. He turned his head and embraced Jean in an passionate kiss.

"Tell me you don't mean that."

"I don't I just...I mean, for God's sake Jean, what I am supposed to think? They came into a mutant community and gathered a mob so they could lash out against us and when we stand up for ourselves, in our home, they killed us. That's who you're defending?"

"I'm not defending them. Just calm down."

Scott sighed again, this time is was a much more casual, relaxed form of release. "You're right. You're right. The Professor wouldn't let this get to him."

"You keep talkin' like Chuck a'int around. He's not dead Summers" Logan said with his arms around his chest.

Scott moved past Jean and shorted the distance between himself and Logan until he was staring down on him. "Oh, now you've got something to say? I was beginning to think you didn't care at all Logan."

"I aint sayin' that bub. I know you can't see with your own two eyes but you should know that if didn't care I wouldn't be here now would I?"

"Oh, right. That explains why you leave every chance you get."

"Boys. That's enough" Jean interjected.

"So what are you gonna do?" Logan continued, ignoring Jean's plea, "just sit her with our heads up our ass while the MRD bastards kill more mutants?"

"No Logan, we're not" Scott answered.


End file.
